


Mardi 13h08

by Rogersruinedmylife



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-06 00:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17929463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogersruinedmylife/pseuds/Rogersruinedmylife
Summary: He gripped the tray tightly in his hands, ignoring the explosion of pain that bloomed across his swollen knuckles. His hands shook as he held it, willing the trembles to stop, to stop betraying how weak he felt inside. His tongue had gone dry and heavy in his mouth just from uttering those words to him. Elliott. Lucas could still feel those eyes on his back, watching him as he held his head high and retreated down the hallway.





	Mardi 13h08

He gripped the tray tightly in his hands, ignoring the explosion of pain that bloomed across his swollen knuckles. His hands shook as he held it, willing the trembles to stop, to stop betraying how weak he felt inside. His tongue had gone dry and heavy in his mouth just from uttering those words to him. Elliott. Lucas could still feel those eyes on his back, watching him as he held his head high and retreated down the hallway. An ache had settled in his chest the moment he noticed him cutting in line beside him. His appetite had already been waning, but the sight of Eliott, tall, beautiful Eliott, trying to make conversation with him made his stomach churn. He didn’t know how to process the range of emotions that flitted across his mind during those few silent seconds they met eyes. Anger, hurt, want, a need to be hugged and held, to make everything he had been dragging around since last weekend disappear. He settled on anger. Anger was the easiest to channel. He had seen it enough throughout his childhood when his mother would relapse, and his father would react less than patiently to her ramblings. He was used to suppressing every other emotion, portraying the cool indifferent son his father had desired as a break to his ill wife and her high emotions. He had praised Lucas once, for falling and breaking his arm but never crying. Oh, if he could see me now, Lucas thought wryly as he turned to enter the cafeteria. 

Laughter filtered out through the door, loud, boisterous and carefree. He didn’t have to look up from his tray to know who was laughing so carelessly. He could pin point the sounds of his friends from miles away. The sound of their joy, their happiness had always prompted a similar light heartedness within him. However now, it added to the growing void inside him that screamed for someone to take his hand and help him. It reminded him of everything he had to lose. Would they still love him, call him Lulu affectionately or would they roll their eyes at him like they did to Mika sometimes? He knew there was no maliciousness in any of his friends, but the fear had gripped him since he had realized he was....He couldn’t bring himself to even think it, bile rising in his throat as his ears started ringing from the anxiety that gripped him. He would lose the only people that had supported him when his whole world had gone to shit. The scene he had pictured this before crept back up on him. Just like his hallucinating they were laughing; the only difference was they weren’t pointing at Lucas. ‘But how do you know they aren’t talking about you?’ the little voice in his head prompted, ‘How do you know they don’t know what you are?’. 

He tried to dispel the thoughts from his mind, eyes frantically searching the cafeteria for another spare bench. He felt as if all the air in his lungs had been punched out of him as he met Maria’s eyes, cold and angry as she gestured to Chloe. Tears began to burn his eyes as he resisted the urge to cry. Chloe regarded him coldly, a hurt glint in her eyes as she took him in. Lucas had never felt so small, so disgusting as he did under her gaze. The guilt over what he had done to Chloe had been lingering in his mind, over shadowed by his fear of being outed. She had taken that choice away from him on Friday. It may not have made its way around the school or back to him yet, but it would, he could tell from the looks some of the others gave him during classes that something was off. Something was wrong with him and everyone knew. Chloe knew. It burned in her deep brown eyes as she stared at him, almost daring him to try entering the cafeteria while she was there. He couldn’t breathe. 

The anger he has used to shield himself against Elliott drained from his body, leaving shame and a sadness so consuming Lucas could no longer see straight. He shoved his tray on the window ledge. His chest was tightening as the walls seemed to be closing in. He had to escape. He kept his head down as he pushed passed students, tears beginning to blur his vision. He bumped of Eliot, part of his screaming for the older boy to grab his arm, to notice his pain and come after him. He wanted to return to that morning. The safety of his room. The feeling of being at peace, the world had stopped spinning for two seconds to let him get his grounding. But he didn’t. There were no footsteps, no call of his name as he struggled to find somewhere safe. But nowhere was safe, not when he was gay. He had seen the news stories, heard the other boys in their school talk about what they would do if they ever found a ‘fag’ in their school. There was no safe place anymore. 

Lucas’s fingers scrambled as pushed his way into the first empty room he could find. An abandoned class room stacked with chairs and spare desk. With only a few hours left in the day no one would look for him here. He locked the door before sinking to the ground, sobs finally leaving his chest. The force of them wracked through his body, hurting his lungs as they tore from his chest. He muffled them in his arms, hands gripping his hair. He tugged at the messy strands. The pain it caused grounded him, stopped him from going insane. It stopped the dark thoughts that whispered to him. The ones that told him no one loved him, no one wanted him. He wished he still had his mother here. Her soft voice and gentle fingers combing through his hair, the woman that taught him piano. She used to be able to sooth his pains with a soft smile and even softer words, dripping with a love Lucas craved. Would she still love him now? The thought brought about more tears. 

He had tried so hard for so long to be normal. A typical boy who smoked and drank a little too much, joked about girls with his friends and had parents who loved him endlessly. Instead it had slipped through his fingers like dust. His parents had ended in screams and tears, objects thrown and Lucas drifting without a home to return to when the dark crept close. His own actions had torn his friends from him. His own isolation creating a wall so thick and strong that their concern could no longer reach him in his cage of fear and repression. Eliot had been a ray of light, a fresh breath of air. But, he too, was gone just as easily, just as quickly. In the dark of the class, with silent tears running down his face, Lucas was alone. And it was his fault.


End file.
